The Janeway Maneuver
by NamelessEnsign
Summary: Pairing: J/C Description: The Commander comes over to the Captain's quarters for dinner, only to find her dressed in a towel, with no clothes to wear, and with a malfunctioning replicator. ;) Written with Cress.


Disclaimer: Characters belong to Paramount.  
Author's note: Written with Cress. More of her great fic can be found at http://www.geocities.com/cress26/index.html  
3rd place in the Falling into you fanfiction contest (http://www.angelfire.com/trek/newvoyageshome/fallcontest.html).  
  
  
The Janeway Maneuver  
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Holding a stack of padds and a bottle of wine, Chakotay pressed the chime for the Captain's quarters. The muted sound of the chime was followed by what he could have sworn was the sound of Kathryn swearing. A moment later, she opened the door, looking flustered and with a slightly embarrassed smile gracing her lips. His own smile slowly vanished when he realized she was wearing nothing but a towel that barely covered her private parts. "Captain?" he said, not wanting to ask directly why she wasn't dressed yet. She looked over his shoulder, to make sure no one was in the corridor, and then she grabbed the front of his uniform and pulled him inside. Mesmerized, he watched as the towel dislodged itself. She quickly pulled it back in place, but not before giving him a revealing look at the curve of a creamy breast. He continued to stare at her, his eyes running up and down her body, relishing every part of her barely covered skin, desperately fighting the fire building in his own body. He knew that he would lose the battle when he felt a certain part of his body stir with excitement. He tried to hide it behind the padds and the bottle of wine, but was not entirely successful.   
  
She seemed too agitated to notice his looks, however, something he was very grateful for. Staring at his Captain like this could only get him into trouble. He was rudely pulled back to the present by the sound of her voice.   
  
"Commander, may I borrow that phaser in your pocket?" she said, gesturing towards his groin.   
  
Embarrassed, he cleared his throat. "It's not a phaser, Captain," he said.   
  
"Oh," she said, realizing her mistake. She blushed, but couldn't help to admire the view a bit longer. The bulge in his pants was mouthwatering. He watched in awe as she stared at him much the same way he had been staring at her only seconds earlier.   
  
"What do you need a phaser for?" he asked, needing to change the subject.   
  
She stared at him for a second, as if she didn't quite comprehend what he had said, then started gesturing wildly. "The damn replicator! It won't work!" She glared at the replicator in the corner of her quarters, as if she could intimidate it into working. "I don't have any clothes!" she exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips, nearly making the towel dislodge itself again.   
  
His mind brought back the image of her partly revealed breast and he found himself hoping it would happen again. Noticing his stare, she pulled the towel closer.   
  
"Do you think shooting the replicator will make it work?" he said, forcing the image to the back of his mind.   
  
"No," she replied, directing her glare towards him, "but it would give me great pleasure." She paused for a second and the look in her eyes softened. "I had planned on replicating a new dress for tonight."   
  
Seeing her suddenly sad expression, he stepped a little closer, his heart aching for her. "Well... my replicator is fine. Wanna borrow it?"   
  
She looked at him wearily. "But I can't go out like this," she said, gesturing at the towel. "I recycled all my clothes in last week's energy crisis. I haven't had time to replicate any new ones. I have no clothes what so ever."   
  
Looking at her towel-clad body a bit longer than necessary, he contemplated his options. None of them seemed like a good idea.   
  
"I could borrow your uniform," she said.   
  
"Then what would I wear?" he asked, surprised.   
  
"My towel," she answered innocently.   
  
He just looked at her. She didn't want to go out into the corridor in a towel, but she expected him to? But, she did have a point, though. He did have a little less to cover. And if a member of the crew saw her in her present state of undress, they would never look at her the same way again. He knew he wouldn't. He sighed. "All right," he said. Then he turned his back to her, to give her some privacy, and started to undress. When he was about to step out of his pants, he suddenly saw something from the corner of his eye. Her towel. He swallowed hard. She was right behind him, holding the towel beside him, which meant that she... He didn't dare to finish the thought.   
  
"Cute briefs," she said with a smile in her voice. He looked down at his underwear, suddenly remembering what underwear he had put on that morning. Boxer briefs with little red hearts. Inwardly, he groaned. He wished he had worn something a little more... manly. Stepping out of the uniform as quickly as he could, he took the towel she was holding and passed the uniform to her instead. "Nice butt too," she said, just as she was taking the uniform from him.   
  
He didn't dare turn around immediately, knowing it would take a little while for her to get into his uniform. Not that he didn't want to see her get into it, he just thought it was best not to glance, she was the captain after all, and could very well demote him.   
  
"Ok," she said suddenly, waking him from his musings, "you can turn around now."   
  
The sight that greeted him made him want to burst out laughing, but the look on her face warned him that laughing wouldn't be such a good idea. "You look..." he said, barely containing his laughter, "you look..." He gestured, trying to think of an appropriate phrase to describe her. "Dressed," he finally settled on. Not the brightest comment, but it was all he could think of. "Shall we?" he asked and gestured towards the door, wanting to escape her glare. She nodded, so he wrapped the towel around his waist, and approached the door. She was making no move, so he opened the door, and looked out into the corridor. "It's empty," he said, gesturing for her to follow him.   
  
Cautiously, he stepped into the corridor, closely followed by Kathryn, hiding behind him. Slowly, they made their way towards his quarters, a little more secure for each step. This was going better than expected. When they reached the door to his quarters, he relaxed, and he noticed Kathryn letting out a deep breath. He lifted his hand to punch in the access code when he caught a glimpse of someone coming around the corner of the corridor.   
  
"Good evening!" he heard Tom Paris exclaim happily.   
  
He looked up to see Tom eyeing him conspicuously, grinning widely. Chakotay tried his best not to look like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't, but had a feeling he failed completely. The fact that Kathryn was hiding behind his back wasn't helping either. Looking casual wasn't the easiest thing in the world.   
  
Suddenly, Tom noticed that Chakotay wasn't alone. "Have you seen Kathryn?" he asked, and winked.   
  
"As in Kathryn Janeway?" Chakotay said, trying to ignore the fact that he was standing in the corridor, dressed in Kathryn's towel, talking to Tom Paris. All pretence of acting casually went out the airlock.   
  
"Yes," Tom replied, still grinning.   
  
"No."   
  
"You're lying."   
  
He sighed. "I am," he confessed.   
  
Suddenly, Kathryn's head shot out from behind him. "And if you tell anyone... and I mean anyone... about this, you'll be crewman Paris, is that understood?" she said, glaring at the poor pilot.   
  
"Yes, ma'am!" Tom replied, but his grin had grown even wider. He looked back and forth between his Commander, dressed in a towel, and his Captain, dressed in what obviously was Chakotay's uniform. "I'm not sure I wanna know, so I'm not going to ask what you two are up to." He winked. "But, have fun!" he said, and started to walk away.   
  
Sighing, Chakotay turned back to key in the code to his quarters before anyone else showed up. From the corner of his eye, he could see that Kathryn was shaking. Whether it was from anger or laughter, he couldn't tell. But he sure hoped it was from laughter. As the door opened and they stumble in, he got his answer   
  
"Why... did it have to be... Tom Paris?" she said between giggling fits.   
  
Now he started laughing too. "Must have been quite a sight," he said.   
  
"Yes, and now the whole ship is going to know within the hour," she said. Suddenly, she started laughing harder, clutching her stomach.   
  
"What?" he said, laughing.   
  
She took a step towards him, but stumbled on the uniform, straight into his arms. It only made her laugh harder. "Look at us!" she said, "can you imagine what he'll tell them?"   
  
"Yeah, now everyone will think we're up to something," he said. Having her so close made his body respond again. This time, he didn't bother to try to hide it. The smell of her recently washed hair, the smile on her lips, the twinkle in her eye, and oh, the feel of her body under that too big uniform. Slowly, his laughter died away. He just stood there, watching her in awe.   
  
Noticing the change in him, she stopped laughing too. The look in her eyes grew serious and her gaze didn't leave his eyes. Then suddenly, the twinkle was back. She shifted slightly, making sure he knew that she had noticed his body react to their proximity. "Speaking of being… up… to something," she whispered, suggestively nodding towards the lower parts of his body, "we don't want to disappoint the crew, do we?"   
  
He stared at her, not really believing what she was saying, but hoping he had interpreted her right. Deciding to test it, he bent down slightly, as if he was going to kiss her. When she didn't object or move away, but actually lifted her face for her lips to meet his, he kissed her. She responded by deepening the kiss, drawing him to her. He broke the kiss and smiled at her. "No, of course we don't want to disappoint the crew," he whispered, and kissed her again.   
  
  
  
  
Written with Cress. To read more of her great fanfic, go to Cress' Page at http://www.geocities.com/cress26/index.html.   
  
  
  
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namelessensign@tiscali.no  
http://go.to/nameless_ensign 


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